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#I think I just failed my physics exam
I need a hug
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ihamtmus · 11 months
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pallases · 11 months
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i have escaped the c range in physics!!
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boycritter · 1 year
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genuinely fucking sobbing at the shit my moms had to go through within the medical system
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alteredphoenix · 2 years
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So how do markings from Embleos supposed to work? The shapes they take on as soon as it’s embedded into the skin (or in Celia’s case whatever happened to it to go into her right eye) are too specific to be called random, so they’re probably formed as a sort of “this is what you represent on a symbolic level” or “this is where the strength of your abilities comes from” or even “this is the shape you personally chose to have”.
Those first two statements seem more likely as pretty much everyone’s tats have recognizable shapes a’la Yelsy’s is a flower on her chest, Celia’s is a crosshair, Lisette’s appears to be a wasp of some sort (?) on her thigh, Hugo’s is a wing on his back, etc. But then you have something like Leo’s, which doesn’t bring to mind any specific shape other than it runs up his right arm in an X pattern (although my other thought was that it reminds me of blood), Michelle’s is...I don’t know what it is except it’s two crescents that almost form a question mark (or moons?) and a teeny-tiny cross on the lower crescent (and it’s anyone guess what that’s supposed to mean for her if we go by the first statement, but for it to be right by her carotid pulse a’la her neck possibly indicates it represents life/death if we go by the second statement), and who knows what Lucien’s is supposed to be because AFAIK we never see it but it’s on his chest and he’s clearly not compatible with it.
OTOH there’s also the possibility that the Primordials might have something to do with Embleos - and Reactors, because the Empire has to be getting all that mana somewhere to be manufacturing them, but this post isn’t about them - or deciding who gets their boon(s) (therefore throwing all but the first statement out the window by bringing in a fourth statement “this is what you represent on a symbolic level because we believe this is what you are deep down/your truest self”) because, while I don’t know about the rest of Blaze (beyond Yelsy being the only person to permanently see Toto), Celia choosing/having the Embleo in her eye and Origin a’la King of the Beasts a’la GOD having God’s Eye AKA the gift of clairvoyance, can’t just be a coincidence and should be setting off alarm bells because there is no way in hell the Federation’s upper echelons aren’t going to hear about some random sixteen-year-old girl that placed second to dead last in the elite knight academy while having the foresight of the leader of the Primordial Beasts that’s sleeping (dead?) in stone and not overlook her.
#tales of luminaria#like something's going on in the federation for them to allow leo and hugo to join blaze despite failing the exams#and for an outside party to look at celia & go 'this girl doesn't have any powers' despite her having an embleo#and considers her a candidate - for what it's anyone's guess#i was thinking 'well maybe he's looking for someone to replace vicar kanon'#except the vicar is a young woman so it can't be age-related & she doesn't seem to suffer from any sicknesses#so my only other guess is either she's a possible candidate for whoever the observer answers to or something else entirely#also it should be notd that not everyone who gets an embleo receives a tat#but i always found it odd in a cast of 21 celia's the only one among the jerle faction to not have a tat#like you'd think she'd have the marks form around her eye - except that doesn't happen#would it even be possible for marks to form on a body part away from the embleo?#unless the crosshair is supposed to be considered the mark in her eye#but that's green and not black like the other tats#so where does that leave the actual physical embleo? did it just straight up dissolve?#all the other embleos have skin & muscle to embed into but an eyeball's an organ#so unless that thing evaporated i better hope aedis has anesthesia & they put celia under before the embleo was put in place#that's another thing: i actually thought she lost that eye or was born w/ heterochromia#but then you see her as a little kid and that's not the case - she had two yellow eyes#no one else's embleos causes changes to their bodies besides performing mystic artes#and someone like michelle was already doing that before she got her embleo#so what turned celia's eye blue?#you mean to tell me leo & hugo didn't notice the difference & go 'hey celia check it out your eyes are different colors now'?#no one started asking any questions? b/c i don't see anybody else w/ complete heterochromia#i'm just going to see the 'despite not having any powers' comment is code for 'this girl's not showing any signs of being an aberration'#b/c the observer clearly has an embleo - the game's just being discreet about it#otherwise why else would he show such clinical interest in celia that they were inevitably going to meet up?#also this was supposed to be a gen post on embleos but my celia favoritism shoved its way through & i ain't hiding it lol
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jojolimons · 3 months
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now that i think about it idk how i got an a in physics without knowing trigonometry
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lovelyisadora · 1 year
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still can’t do my papers and can’t even do the bare minimum to get two more incompletes 🙃🙃🙃 I mean I don’t have a choice I’ll have to but oh my god what has happened to me
#my other prof was like. idk if you’re gonna pass with only two of the three assignments you need because you failed your exam remember#and I was like oh right I forgot about that#and she suggested an incomplete 🙃#my other professor also suggested an incomplete 🙃 but in order to get that one done I have minimum seven small papers to do#all are done asap tonight and I haven’t started any of them bc when I think about them I seize up#grad adventures#it’ll be okay if I can just get the work in but oh my god#it shouldn’t be hard to write seven one page papers an annotated bibliography and one 3-5 page grant proposal and yet here we are#and none of it matters if the graduate council declines my petition to extend my thesis proposal deadline bc if they do then I fail so 🙃#anyway yeah I’m being hard on myself today but also I’ve had the last three weeks to work on these things and I haven’t been able to do its#my own fault really#ANYWAY it’s my as scheduled breakdown time and when it’s over I’ll (hopefully) be able to submit the bare minimum to get my incompletes#and this time I’ll do the damn work on time so I don’t have to petition the graduate council bc I think they’re gonna actually kill me#the good news is in a few weeks I’m restarting the medical processes of let’s find out what the fuck is physically wrong with isadora again#and that I might actually get answers bc my aunt (a doctor) is pissed off that mine doesn’t listen to me#and is going to make some calls 🙃
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miguelsslvt · 8 months
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punk! miguel x innocent! reader
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word count: 879
TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.
request: @sukioyakio ★
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A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^
imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).
most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.
but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.
you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.
despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.
'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.
'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.
that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.
soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.
that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.
'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.
his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.
'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.
he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.
your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.
'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.
'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.
'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.
you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.
you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.
god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎
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bearsbeetsbeskar · 4 months
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Study Days with Joel (Joel Miller x f!reader)
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pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (no outbreak) word count: 3.5k of pure smut rating: Explicit, MDNI 18+, swearing, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, breath play, choking, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in his 40s), no physical descriptions of reader except that Joel is able to lift her up summary: You have your state psychology exam coming up, the last step in getting your degree, but studying is the bane of your existence. Joel comes up with an alternative solution to help you study for the exam. A/N: Soooo, this was rotting my brain for the last month of my semester in grad school, pretty sure I was ovulating and I started typing it out in the library on campus. Best believe I struggled to get any studying done, thinking about this fictional man. This is also my first time writing smut so please be kind. Not beta'd cause I literally just needed to get it OUT. Comment and reblog if you like it. Enjoy! 🌚 🌹-N main masterlist
“C’mon baby, try again. Wanna hear it.”
You whine and squirm under the weight of his grip, his forearm pinning your hips further into the mattress like an iron bar.
“Jo- fuck,” you pant as your hips buck up, chasing the heat of his mouth. The crumpled study cheat sheet that you were clutching is long abandoned as your right hand snakes through his curls and grips them hard.
All you can do is mewl helplessly as Joel laps away at your aching cunt, his tongue lathing in wide strokes through your folds, before flattening it and swirling it around your swollen clit.
“Try again,” he mumbles into your core. The vibrating rumble of his baritone sends shockwaves throughout your body, as he presses a kiss to your clit, then moves down to lick into your hole, drinking up your arousal.
You gasp, canting your hips up again, trying to get him closer.
Deeper.
More of his tongue, more of his fingers, more Joel.
“I can’t,” you sob in desperation and arch your back, more wetness seeping out of your pussy.
Your mind is reduced to mush at this point. The only sensations that exist are the heat of Joel’s mouth, the softness of his curly locks, and the damp fabric of the sheets underneath you.
“Yes, you can,” he whispers against your core. “You remembered it earlier today. C’mon” He looks up at you, those sinful chocolate eyes devouring you whole.
The photographic memory you were so confident in fails you instantly, as you try to remember concepts from the cheat sheet. The only image you can see is Joel's predatory gaze peering up at you from your core, the lower half of his face drenched in your slick.
You have no doubt that Joel’s intentions were pure. Wholesome, even. The key word being were. But the way he’s sucking on your pussy lips, devouring your cunt as if it was his last meal on earth, nothing about this feels wholesome or pure.
He wanted to help you study for your upcoming licensing exam, the final step in getting your degree. When he suggested helping you out, you figured he would run through the material with you a couple times, test you on a few concepts, and then reassure you that you had nothing to worry about. Kiss you on the forehead and tell you that you’d ace the exam no problem.
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“You’re gonna do just fine baby, you’re overthinking it. You and I both know that you know your stuff.” He grabs your face, his massive palms enveloping your cheeks, as he kisses you on the forehead while you continue your anxious tirade.
“Yeah, but not with statistics!” Anxiety bubbles up through your chest, solidifying and compressing your lungs as you squawk back at him.
“This is math, my worst fucking enemy. I hate that they include this portion on the exam, it’s not like I’ll ever need to know how the different types of reliability and validity will help a client in a counseling session-”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he presses his thumbs into your cheekbones ever so slightly, interrupting your runaway thoughts and bringing you back to earth. “Look at me.”
You attempt to hang your head in defeat but Joel’s strong hands keep your head in place. Pouting incessantly, you roll your eyes and pointedly look away from him.
“Hey.” He grunts and shakes your head sharply. “I saw that.”
You’re still mostly in panic mode, but the edge in his tone has warmth rushing through your body, and your gaze trailing back up to meet him.
Joel strokes your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, back and forth. The featherlight touch on your soft skin lulls you out of panic mode, as your shoulders slump and your posture relaxes. Pulling you in for a hug, he cups the back of your head, his other hand rubbing up and down your back. The heat from his large hand bleeds through your sleep shirt, wrapping your body in his comforting warmth.
“You’re smarter than anyone I know darlin,’ told ya so from the first day we met. Hell, I don’t know anyone else who has the entirety of that damn manual memorized front to back, ‘cept for you.” He presses his lips into the crown of your head, inhaling the sweet smell of you.
You snort, but it comes out muffled as you press your face further into his broad chest.
“That’s different. That stuff is interesting to me, it’s easy to absorb. Statistics is math, and math is the devil.” You grumble, nuzzling further into the warmth of his shirt, breathing in the faint smell of his detergent and cologne. The smell of Joel.
“I know. But I’m sure in the beginning, even memorizing a quarter of the stuff was a headache, and yet you did it. You just gotta give this a chance,” he murmurs against your hair. “Maybe there’s a different method we haven’t figured out yet, that will help it click, hm?”
He continues to rub slow circles against your back when you mumble something incoherent and bury more into his chest, wrapping your arms around his middle.
Joel was right. You knew he was, as much as you hated to admit it. But above all else, he genuinely cared about helping you succeed, and if there was anything he could do to make life easier for you, or let you know that you weren’t alone in your struggles, he would do it. And he always spoke about conquering those struggles as a team, as your partner, always willing to carry the load for you if you couldn’t handle it yourself.
Not that he doubted you in the first place. But it was always ‘we’ or ‘us,’ never just ‘you,’ or ‘I.’ It’s one of the reasons why you were head over heels in love with him. Sometimes you wondered if he realized how much strength he gave you by simply existing.
“Remind me again,” he shifts his arms so that they wrap around you, gluing you to his body,.
“What’s the difference between.. Schizophrenia and schizoaffective disorder?”
Although you’re not looking at him, you know that he has a smile on his face. He fully knows that you know the correct answer. Sighing deeply, you turn your head to the side.
“Schizophrenia is a psychotic disorder where a person experiences psychosis, or hallucinations and or delusional thinking, but schizoaffective disorder is when a person experiences the same psychotic symptoms, along with symptoms of a mood disorder, like depression or mania.”
“Straight from the fuckin’ textbook,” he whispers in your ear, before leaning down to kiss your pulse point. “My smart cookie.”
Shivering in response, you tilt your head to the side as his lips trail down your neck, pressing soft, wet kisses and nibbling ever so slightly. Gasping, you tilt your head further, giving him more access and melting in his embrace.
“Mmm.” Joel rumbles, the deep vibration reverberating through his chest.
“Why don’t we try another study method and see how it works?”
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Little did you know that another study method would involve you laid out beneath Joel, his broad frame caging you in as he took you apart with his mouth. Every kiss, every lick, every suckle to your clit, had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Joel tested your restraint.
“Tell me again baby, I know you know it.”
He whispers into your wetness, pulling away to press wet kisses to the inside of your thighs. When you don’t answer immediately, he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh, applying the slightest pressure that makes you gasp and lift your head to look down at him. He doesn’t say anything else, save for quirking his brow, patiently waiting while his tongue soothes over the indents on your skin.
“Stat-fuck.”
You swallow, your throat desperately dry from the hoarse moans and whimpers you’ve been letting out.
“Statistical significance is- is when the rela-relationsh-shit,” you pant as Joel’s tongue traces your outer lips, sucking slightly before dipping into your hole and curling, “between two or more v-variables is caused by s-something other than-ngh chance.”
The last part comes out as a rushed gasp as scorching heat runs through your veins, with Joel’s mouth magnetized to your cunt, but he praises you nonetheless.
He hums and gives you a devious smile.
“Good girl,” he purrs, grazing your slit with his middle finger, gathering up the obscene amount of wetness leaking out of you, before sliding two thick fingers into your cunt.
You barely have time to catch your breath, choking on gasp as you revel in the stretch of his fingers. So fucking long and thick. You never get tired of how they fill you so perfectly.
“My good fucking girl. So fuckin’ smart.” He growls into your cunt, curling his dexterous fingers, effortlessly pressing up against that spot that makes your eyes roll back and clench around him.
“Oh shit.”
Your mind goes blank as you whine and start to tense your stomach, hips lifting up again seeking out more friction. The stretch of his fingers is delicious, the way they hook inside you, reaching spots you can never reach yourself. It makes your head spin as he continues to lathe his tongue up and down, flattening it and making wide circles around your clit.
You can feel the heat starting to build in your core, licking up your spine as Joel keeps slowly pushing his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. Steadily, in and out, until your hips are tightening and loosing with the building pressure.
“Joel, please.”
You sob and lift your hips up once more to meet his mouth, pull his fingers in deeper.
“Shhh babygirl. You’re doing good so far,” he lifts his mouth off your pussy, his drenched lips hovering just above it as he presses a chaste kiss to your mound.
He waits a beat, before a devious grin spreads across his face.
“But you gotta be prepared for all sorts of distractions when you’re writing that exam, gotta be able to focus and tune it all out.”
Your thoughts aren’t even coherent at this point. Your brain is just a soggy pile of mush, frayed neurons, misfiring in all directions. He’s kidding right?
Joel Miller is your biggest distraction.
Always.
You barely have time to lift your head up and watch his malicious smile disappear, as it morphs into something primal.
Pure hunger.
He rises up from his place between your legs, releasing your one leg he was holding to spread you open, while his other hand is still knuckle deep in your tight, throbbing pussy.
Coming up on the bed to hover over your frame, you’re awestruck by his size. How much bigger he is than you. How broad he is, with his shoulders spanning twice the amount of space as yours. It makes you shiver, your skin tingling under the thin layer of sweat that coats your naked body.
“Next question sugar. Ready?”
Joel licks his lips, his pupils blown black as he snaps his fingers against that spongy spot deep inside you. The air is punched out of your lungs as you choke on a gasp.
“Fuck, Joel.”
“I know baby, I know.”
He coos at you, leaning down to kiss you. Gently brushing his lips against yours before his tongue teases the seam of your lips, you open up to him. He swallows your moans, tongue dancing with yours as he groans, sucking on your bottom lip.
Breaking away he pants as his gaze flicks between your lips to your eyes. “Y’trust me?”
For a fraction of a second, you see the concern in his big rounded eyes. The dominance dissipates as he checks in with you, making sure you’re still with him, and that it’s not too much.
You nod frantically before you can even process his words.
“Words baby, I gotta hear those sweet words.”
“Yes, Joel.” One word falling from your lips.
“Please”
“There we go. Now, can you tell me what inter-rater reliability is?”
“Uhhh.” You wish you could answer him, you really could. But he keeps fucking his fingers into you, pressing up against your g-spot at the same steady pace. The squelching sounds coming from your pussy are obscene, causing your brain to short circuit as you feel the familiar coil tightening in your lower belly.
You try to continue, but as soon as you do, Joel’s free hand slowly snakes around your neck. His massive palm envelopes the circumference of your throat, as he grasps it loosely.
Instantly your mouth drops open as you whine, eyes glazing over. He loves playing with you. It’s all too easy to turn you into a babbling mess, drunk on his pleasure in a matter of minutes. His voice, his hands, his mouth.
Sobbing and squirming underneath him, another pulse of pleasure shoots straight to your core as you clench around his thick fingers. He’s not even squeezing, barely applying the slightest bit of pressure but fuck, it makes you dizzy already.
You love when he chokes you, love feeling his huge warm hands encircling the column of your neck. The way that those hands could so easily snap you in half, holding onto your fate. It makes you ridiculously wet, your pussy fluttering in anticipation.
Joel tilts his head, drinking you in underneath his predatory gaze, before the corner of his mouth slowly lifts into a smile.
“Distractions baby. Gotta think past them”
All you can do is look up at him through teary doe eyes and whimper. In response, his thumb starts to gently circle your clit while his fingers continue stretching you out.
“Joel, please.”
It’s all you can repeat. Begging that he take mercy on you and forget the studying, and just fuck you senseless already.
“Nuh-uh baby, answer the question.” His grip around your throat tightens ever so slightly as he encourages you again.
Swallowing as best as you can while the warmth of his palm bleeds through your skin, you try to think of the answer. But all you can feel is the heat simmering in your belly, the dampness of the sheets beneath you from all the arousal seeping out of your cunt.
“Interrater r-reliability is a measure of val-lidity-”
Joel clicks his tongue and removes his thumb from your clit. You whimper as your hips rise up, chasing his touch.
“Mm, not quite darlin.’ Try again.”
Your brain flounders, unable to conjure up any images of your cheat sheet or study material. The only thing keeping you tethered to reality is the warmth emanating from his large frame caging in your body, and his fingertips pressed into the sides of your throat.
He lets up slightly around your neck, as you pant and bite your lip.
“Inter-rater r-reliability, is a measure of consistency, or the d-degree of agreement between different people -fuck, observing the s-same thing.” The last couple words fade out as he starts running his fingers soothingly up and down the sides of your neck.
“There you go baby,” he purrs. “Very good, so fucking good for me.”
Immediately, his hand slithers around your neck again as his grip gets tighter and tighter, till you’re gasping. Euphoria floods your brain. A gush of wetness seeps out around Joe’s fingers that are still buried in your cunt as you clench hard around him.
You grasp at the sheets, grasp at the hand wrapped around your neck as you writhe underneath him incessantly, your mouth falling open as you try to say his name again.
Growling at the way your body responds to him instantly, Joel’s fingers inside you pick up their pace, thrusting into you and snapping up against that spot that makes you go cross-eyed. His thumb presses down against your clit as he starts to circle it quickly.
“Did so well baby. So fucking smart, and good for me.” His lips curl as he bares his teeth at you.
You’ve never felt smaller in your life. Never felt more aroused. You want him to swallow you whole and wreck you. Then put you back together how he sees fit.
Your lips try to press together, forming the ‘p’ in ‘please’ as you go to beg him for release again. Watching your eyes glaze over, he nods in response.
“Go ahead babygirl, can feel you squeezing me so fuckin' hard. That tight little pussy is drooling, begging for release.”
He leans over you, till his lips are right beside your ear.
"Cum all over my fucking hand and I’ll pound that pretty pussy from behind till you can’t see straight, make you watch in the mirror.”
That’s all it takes. His filthy fucking mouth unraveling your body while his hands break you apart.
All the heat in your body pinpoints towards your core, as you feel your toes start to curl and your eyes roll back as your cunt tightens around his fingers. The coil deep inside you snaps as he lets off your neck, and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you in waves.
It’s searing, white hot euphoria. Endless ecstasy coursing through your veins as your body locks up and convulses, your pussy gushing around him. His fingers don’t slow down, fucking you through it as you arch off the bed, gripping the sheets with white knuckles, wailing his name as if it’s the only answer.
Forget the studying, forget school, forget anything.
Just Joel.
“There you fuckin’ go.” He murmurs in awe, mesmerized at you falling apart for him.
“My good fucking girl, came so hard. So fucking wet for me.”
He presses soft kisses all over your face, your neck, your chest while murmuring more praise. Pulling his soaked fingers out as your body still shakes with aftershocks, he sucks them into his mouth, his eyes falling shut.
You mewl at the sight and let your head thunk against the pillow.
You feel drained. Flattened. Exhausted in the best possible way.
He rests his head on your tummy, looking up at you with adoration. Like you captured the fucking moon for him.
The hunger in his eye is gone, the depth of his chocolate brown irises replaced with warmth and love. Rubbing his hands up and down your sides and kissing the softness of your skin, he checks in with you.
“Holy fuck,” You huff out as you will your breathing to slow down.
He chuckles, the crinkles around his eyes deepen.
“How was that?”
“Well, I’m not gonna be able to conjure up the definition for statistical significance or interrater reliability without remembering your fingers deep inside my pussy.”
You reach down and bury your hands into the soft mop of curls, trailing them down to caress his jaw. You trace the patchy scruff of his beard as Joel turns his head to press his lips against your fingertips.
“But it certainly is a memorable study method.
You flash him a tired smile. "I’m a big fan”
Sweat beads at your hairline as you feel your hair plastered to your forehead, yet he looks at you with same intensity and adoration.
“I’m glad I could help darlin.’ If you can stand my distractions, I have no doubt you’ll ace the exam.”
Mischief laces his tone as he leans up and over you to kiss your forehead. Moving down, kissing your cheek, your lips, his lips brush your pulse point as he licks and nibbles.
You whimper helplessly and tilt your head, giving him more access.
“We’ll see about that. I’m just lucky I have a very good study buddy”
“Oh we’re just getting started sugar,” he whispers in your ear. “That was just the first chapter of material, we got the rest of the textbook to cover, and the rest of the fuckin night.”
Goosebumps prickle across your skin as you shiver again, warmth flooding from your pussy. His fingers dip down, slipping through your folds as he feels how wet you are. He pulls his fingers up, watching the clear webbing of your arousal coat his fingers, as his eyes darken and his gaze flicks back to you.
“Get on your hands and knees for me.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------
A couple weeks later, you get your exam results through the mail. You passed with flying colours, although you’re not really sure how to be honest. But it doesn’t matter as you fling your arms around Joel’s neck, one hand clutching the ripped open envelope as he lifts you off your feet and swings you around, elated for your success.
Needless to say you don’t study by yourself again for future tests after that study session.
931 notes · View notes
melodygatesauthor · 5 months
Text
Always Yours, Never Mine
Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader
Universe Four - The Student
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Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings
Summary
This time I found you at a university. Of course things couldn’t just be simple. You couldn’t just be a faculty member or even a damn janitor, no…you had to be my fucking student. Why couldn’t things be easy just for once? It’s fine…I’ll just have to figure out how to work around it…
Tags/Warnings
NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.
Word Count: 5k
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It was a morning like every other.
You were on your way to your physics class, coffee in hand and your two friends on either side of you, Mira and Stacy. Mira had a skip in her step, excited about a guy she met at the coffee shop just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes, too concerned with the results of last week’s test in Dr. O’Hara’s class to be bothered with your friend’s endeavors.
“Hey!” Stacy screamed your name, grabbing your collar and pulling you back from the street and onto the curb.
A car flew by you, stopping your heart in your chest as you moved back from the street two more steps. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t paid any attention to the road. Stacy spat your name in a scolding manner.
“Jesus, you almost got yourself killed, what the hell are you thinking?” She shook her head.
“Thank you,” you said, taking a deep breath, “I guess I’m just…I’m so nervous about my test I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Clearly,” she agreed, putting both hands on her hips like a parent scolding a child. “I’m sure you did fine on your test. You said you studied right?”
The three of you started walking again toward the building where your classes were held.
“Yeah, I did, but I mean…the last test I took I failed, I can’t fail again.” You felt dread weighing heavy on your chest as the large brick building blocked out the sun on your approach.
Mira patted your back. “You’re smart, I’m sure you did fine.” She chuckled as she jogged ahead toward the building. “Besides! I’m sure that Dr. O’Hara would let you suck his dick for a better grade!”
You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at Mira’s comment. She never ceased to say things that were embarrassing beyond belief. Everyone knew that Dr. O’Hara was hot. The man wore dress shirts, sure, but either he couldn’t find ones that fit properly, or he intentionally wore a size too small so people would know he worked out. It was hard to think about much else when his pectorals were so prominently displayed under a thin veil of fabric. It didn’t help either that his nipples seemed to be perpetually stiff, clearly visibly underneath his shirt, just like they were today.
“Good morning cl–”
Dr. O’Hara’s failure to finish his sentence caught you off guard, forcing your eyes on him as you walked the rest of the way into the room. You felt nervous, averting your eyes immediately and staring at the floor as you walked to your desk. After your friend’s inappropriate comment, and his lingering gaze, you couldn’t help thinking about things a student shouldn’t imagine about their professor.
Things like…what if you could suck his dick for a better grade?
He cleared his throat. “Alright class, I’m going to pass back your tests now.”
You’d done a fine job on your exam. Miguel’s predecessor, the Miguel of this universe, had already graded your paper and even put a little smiley face next to the number 87 in red ink. It was obvious that this one hadn’t made any moves on you, but he had taken a liking to you. That wouldn’t work in Miguel’s favor though. He needed you to be so desperate that you might be willing to go to great lengths to get your grade fixed.
The jealousy that stabbed Miguel in the gut when he realized that his alternate was enraptured by you made it easy to rid himself of the man. In fact, he felt nothing as he watched the life leave Miguel’s eyes. He felt nothing as he buried the man so far into the ground that no one would ever find his body.
It wasn’t that Miguel wanted to be predatory toward you, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was clear that you were younger in this universe than in previous ones. Your birth date was the same, he saw it in your records on the school database before he took over for your prior professor, but the year was different. He’d already gone through great lengths just to find you, so what was a little manipulation just to have you? You’d be grateful in the end, he just knew it.
He passed the tests around, watching you carefully to gauge your response to his little note he made at the top of your test. 
Come to my office after your classes so we can discuss your grade and your future in my class.
You looked down at the glaring 62 on your exam with the note to meet Dr. O’Hara in his office later. A pit formed in your gut. The words, ‘your future in my class’, stuck out more than the rest. You gulped, hands shaking as you put the failed test in your book bag and turned your attention back to class. You hated that professors seemed to do that, handing out your tests prior to the start of class. How in the hell were you expected to focus for the rest of the class with the looming threat that you might be told to retake the class next semester?
He felt a little bad after seeing your face drop at the sight of the failed exam. In some ways Miguel missed the therapist. She was bold, more mature, and he felt like she was, personality-wise, the closest to you he had found thus far. In this universe you were naive, young, bright-eyed and inexperienced. In some ways that was exciting, thinking about how easy it would be to mold you into the woman he’d lost, or at least as close to the original as possible. In other ways he didn’t love the idea of corrupting you like that.
It didn’t matter though, in the end as long as he had you, whether by moral means or immoral, that’s all that mattered.
Later that evening, shortly after finishing your final class for the day, you found yourself standing outside of Dr. O’Hara’s office, knuckles rapping on the door in an uneven rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was deafening while you waited for him to open the door. Earlier you and your friends had joked about what you were going to do in there, but this wasn’t a movie, this was reality, and your professor wasn’t going to let you sleep your way out of a bad grade.
Not that you really wanted to do that anyway.
Your unusually tall professor opened the door, stepping back to let you inside. He was quiet when he locked the door, so quiet that you wouldn’t even notice he’d done it. You seemed a little smaller in this universe. Miguel wondered if it was because you were actually shorter, or if the fact that you were younger made it seem to be the case.
“I don’t understand why I got such a bad grade, Dr. O’Hara,” you turned to face him, failed test in hand, eyes already glistening wet with the threat of tears. “I worked really hard after you helped me understand it better.”
Fuck, he thought. His cock was already springing to life, slowly making his pants feel tighter while he looked at you. This was new territory that he didn’t know how to navigate. This wasn’t the type of person Miguel wanted to be, but he also wanted to start establishing his control over you now. If he could control you, he could keep you safe; he could have you.
“Yeah well, as you can see…” he snatched the test from your hand, “you didn’t do a very good job, did you?”
Something was different about Dr. O’Hara, you felt it as he ripped the paper from your hands. He was normally a very calm and collected type of professor, everyone loved him for that. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so harshly now. You clutched your book bag closer to yourself as though it would teleport you out of the room. He took a step closer, and you stepped back until your rear was against his desk. You felt trapped.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he said, seeing the terror in your expression. Miguel’s intention wasn’t to make you fear him, but at the same time, he was willing to do what it took to make you listen for once, since your alternates didn’t seem to pay his warnings any mind. “Look, I’d be willing to…fix your grade.”
He’d hoped that when he said it like that you would get the hint so he didn’t have to spell it out for you. Surely you’d seen enough pornos to know where this was going, right? It would make it less guilt inducing for him, and a lot less scary for you, at least that’s what he was thinking. 
“Fix it how? Is there extra credit?” You decided to continue on like you didn’t know what he was playing at.
“You could say that,” he said, taking another step toward you.
There was no way he meant what you thought he meant. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating that you were supposed to fuck your way into a better grade could he? That was just a stupid joke you and your friends had laughed about, albeit frequently, but it was just a joke. He couldn’t be serious.
You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down to his tight-fit slacks and the way they were especially tight around his groin. You gulped, looking back up at his eyes quickly, trying to appear not to have seen anything. Maybe if you kept your eyes anywhere but on his bulge it would go away, and he would let this go.
But you wouldn’t be so lucky.
Miguel took another step forward, bringing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your skin gently. He smirked, feeling satisfied to touch you again. Spending all the time in the last universe, he’d almost forgotten what you felt like.
“I’m not going to hurt you, and if you just listen to me you might even enjoy yourself.”
No matter how much you told yourself to run, to kick, to scream, you just stood there while Dr. O’Hara leaned forward, claiming your mouth in his and melting into you. He lifted you onto the desk like you were weightless, pushing himself against you until he was almost laying on top of you. You kissed him back, but the rest of you was frozen, unsure how to respond. Should you even be allowing this to happen, or should you be trying to stop him?
What would you do anyway? Fight him off? The man was built like a damn tank. You could work out for a hundred years and still never come close to moving him. On the bright side, you would probably pass your class, though this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.
“P-please, Dr. O’Hara, s-stop–”
“Shh,” he whispered, kissing you deeper, “you want me to fix your grade right? You want to pass this class? Hm?”
He looked down at you, waiting for your answer, the guilt still nagging at him as he noticed a stray tear fall down the side of your face.
You nodded. “Y-yes, yes I do.”
“Then be quiet, and do what I say,” he demanded, sliding a massive hand up your skirt, his fingers teasing at the hem of your panties.
Your mind was racing with feelings you could hardly comprehend. On one hand, your body was tingling an overwhelming desire, a need to feel his touch in the most intimate way. His thick index finger tucked into the leg of your panties, knuckles sliding softly over your pussy lips. When he kissed you it didn’t feel like a dirty professor trying to take advantage, but rather a lover who wanted to take his time with you.
On the other hand, he was much older than you, and he was your professor. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t really interested in sleeping with him, despite the teasing from you and your friends.
That didn’t seem to matter now, he was pulling your underwear down your thighs and tossing them to the floor. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle fingers over your clit, forcing a choked whimper to escape your lungs. You thought about protesting his actions again, but decided against it. You didn’t want to piss him off, and you didn’t want to fail the class.
“There you go, honey,” he whispered against your lips, “don’t squirm too much okay? You’ll like it, I know you will.”
You nodded, unable to find the words to say otherwise. Dr. O’Hara pushed you down so your back was flat against the desk, his large hand pressed against your abdomen while his other started to undo his pants. You didn’t even want to look at it, so you stared out the window and kept your eyes trained on the gate at the entrance to the college campus. He exhaled a low and deep breath as he dragged the tip of his cock along your folds.
“Look at me, hermosa,” his voice was low, but still demanding.
You complied, turning your head slowly to look at him. Miguel tried to convince himself that you would come around, that you were just nervous for your first time together. He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t delusional either, but he needed to believe that you would come around, because working with the you that was right in front of him was better than the unknown of whatever versions he may encounter in other universes. ‘The devil you know’, and all that.
“Hold on tight, honey,” he warned, sliding his dick through your slick entrance. He couldn’t even make it halfway in before it was too tight. “F-fuck baby…shit.”
You cried out, all of your resolve falling to the wayside. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad.
“Dr. O’Hara pleas–”
Before you could even finish your plea his hand was covering your mouth. He shook his head, eyes narrowing dangerously in warning. You tried to beg with your eyes, your small sobs blocked by the brick wall of his palm only serving to make his cock throb inside your cunt. You grabbed onto his forearm, gripping it so tight your nails dug into his skin, but it may as well have been a pillar, unmoving and sturdy while he kept your mouth covered.
“Honey, please,” he hissed, his breaths of arousal interrupting his irritated tone. “I know it’s painful now but if you just relax, I’ll stretch you out so it won’t hurt anymore alright?”
You didn’t respond, and Miguel felt the guilt in his chest. The guilt didn’t outweigh the delicious feeling of your hole squeezing around the mere three inches he’d managed to get inside. He slid forward a little more, your eyes rolled back in response, your breaths turned into labored panting while you took him further.
“You’re doing great, hermosa,” he encouraged, “taking me so well.”
Your legs tightened around his waist as your cunt stretched even wider around him. He was bigger than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get free from him. Finally he bottomed out inside you, when you looked down at where you were connected you could see a bulge in your abdomen. Your eyes widened in fear, as though seeing it made it feel that much bigger.
“Shh, baby, shh,” he cooed, rolling his hips back and then snapping forward again, forcing a guttural groan to erupt from deep within you. “That’s it, fuck, so tight-that’s-it.”
Miguel established a steady rhythm that was made easier by how wet your little hole got. At least you’re physically enjoying yourself, he thought to himself, still trying to ease the guilt brewing inside him. His free hand grabbed onto your thigh, leveraging himself even deeper. The sight of his fat cock bulging up through your stomach made him harder, if that were even possible. He thought, for only a second, about the fact that you might not be on birth control, but then decided he didn’t really give a shit.
Your makeup was ruined, black rivers running down your cheeks while you cried even harder. When Miguel looked down at where your pussy was split around his dick he could see why, you’d made a bloody mess between both your bodies. He questioned why he thought that was hot. Causing you pain shouldn’t feel that good, but it did, the sight of your blood making his pace even faster.
“Didn’t know you had such a little pussy,” he breathed between thrusts, “so tight, so-wet-fuck.”
When Miguel thought about it, the two of you - himself and you from the original universe -, never got that rough. It wasn’t something he knew he would like, having power over you like that, causing you pain and listening to your cries. Hearing you whimper now though, laying on his desk with your legs wrapped around him while he split you open, was making him feral. If making you cry was bad, then why the hell did it feel so fucking good?
“Are you going to come for me, honey?” He asked in a low whisper.
You didn’t answer, you just kept your eyes on his, a silent prayer that he would stop. He couldn’t stop now though, he was so damn close.
“Next time m-maybe, holy-shit-fuck-fuck-FUCK!”
His hips snapped forward, stuttering and halting against yours. You felt the searing hot ropes of his spend while it spilled inside your walls, cock throbbing and stretching you further with every spurt. His breathing was deep, low, and you guessed that if he weren’t afraid of being caught he would be much more vocal. He tossed his head back, using the hand that was on your hip to push his hair from where it fell into his eyes.
Once he was finished, Miguel released your mouth, the post-orgasm clarity making his guilt take over tenfold.
“Shit,” he muttered, pulling out of you, the sudden feeling forcing a quiet cry from your swollen, trembling lips.
You didn’t speak. Now that he was finished you didn’t have words to say. What could you say? ‘You’re a monster’? ‘How could you do this to me’? ‘Why would you do this to me’? None of his answers would matter, and part of you still wondered if you’d asked for it some way. What else did you think your professor wanted you to come into his office for after all the classes had ended for the day? The red flags had been waving in your face and you ignored them. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you wanted this all along.
“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from Miguel’s stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”
Miguel shot up in bed, quickly realizing that he was dreaming, the reminder of that day still so fucking clear in his mind.
He looked at the calendar sitting above the coffee maker in his apartment. Well, his apartment. It had already been four long weeks that he’d spent in that universe trying desperately to get you to like him. He could tell by the look on your face though that you were still terrified of him. 
He wondered if he should just leave, call it quits for this universe and move on to the next one. Miguel couldn’t shake the probability that something might be worse in the next universe though. What if he traveled there only to find that you were already dead? What if the next ten universes took him years to get through and eventually he was too old to keep looking for you? No matter how he looked at it, logically speaking, it was still better to try and work with the you in front of him, than to risk the unknown.
You couldn’t put into words the way you felt when you saw Dr. O’Hara every week in your physics class. You started sitting toward the back, hoping some other girl might grab his attention instead, but it never worked. He continued to summon you to his office in the late evenings, and he continued to fuck you until you could barely walk your way out of his office.
He terrified you.
And that terrified him.
“Dr. O’Hara,” the head of student affairs walked into Miguel’s office, pushing the already ajar door open and stepping inside.
“Oh, hi, Janice,” Miguel said, feeling his body become tense.
You better not have opened your fucking mouth, he thought.
“One of your students…” your name coming out of her mouth made him start to sweat, “...came to me and said she would like to drop out and take this class another semester. She said it doesn’t fit into her schedule right now so we need you to sign–”
“Halfway through the semester?” He asked, tone sharper than he intended. “No. She’s doing so well it would be a mistake.”
“It’s not really up to–”
“What’s the cutoff date for this kind of thing? Isn’t there always a cutoff date?”
“This Thursday is the–”
“No.”
“You don’t really have a choice.”
“Let me talk to her.”
The woman sighed, handing him the paper, “I think it’s a mistake too, for the record. It would be a shame to have to do all that work all over again.”
The woman left, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she walked down the hall. Miguel looked at the sheet of paper, hands shaking as he looked down at your signature. There it was. The same signature on your fucking marriage certificate, right there, telling him that you’d had enough and wanted to leave him. 
He slammed his office door and walked over to his bag, the one where he kept your wedding photo. He hadn’t looked at it much since he’d left the original universe. The image of the two of you together brought him nothing but pain. He wanted you back so badly he was willing to rape a poor college girl that looked just like you in order to live in a fantasy that, deep down, he knew would never really hold a candle to the reality he once had.
Looking back he remembered the day of your wedding, the way you looked took his breath away. He was still mad that the therapist hadn’t worked out, if only she’d listened. Even the barista wasn’t too bad. She was a bit mouthy, but…no, he couldn’t stand the damn barista. She was a lost cause the moment she broke up with him.
Something told him that this version of you, the student, wasn’t going to work out from the beginning. He wanted it so badly though. When he tried to imagine a world where he could be happy with that version of you, he couldn’t. Even in the event he was able to convince you to marry him, or hell, even go on a date with him, he knew it would be all done in fear. You’d never look at him the way you did. 
You would never love him.
You startled him when you opened the door to his office unannounced. You could tell because he scrambled to put something into his bag as you entered. His gaze was still so harsh, and you thought maybe you shouldn’t have come at all, but you were afraid your consequences would be harsher if you ignored his long standing request to meet him in the office during the evenings. You closed the door behind yourself, knowing that he would probably do it anyway if you didn’t do it yourself. 
This is the last time, you thought. You do this one more time and then you’re done.
You hoped that by giving him what he so clearly wanted from you one last time, and perhaps being mature about it, you could convince him to let you go.
“D-Dr. O’Hara I–”
“You’re trying to drop out of my fucking class?” He snapped, eyes shooting spears through you.
You gulped, stepping toward the door, immediately regretting closing it behind yourself.
“W-well yes but I came to, um…well I thought we could–”
“Thought we could what?” He asked, standing quickly.
Regardless if you’d never love him, he was going to have to work with what he had, and right now he had a crying twenty something in front of him who was willing to do anything he said.
“We can do it just one more time and then I want to leave your class,” you whispered.
Dr. O’Hara strode over to you slowly, each step a booming quake that tore through what little determination you’d had when walking in there. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, leaning forward so his lips were against your ear. You hated that your body had become conditioned to react pleasantly to his touch, a tingling sensation spreading down to your core.
“What did you say?” He hissed against your ear.
You couldn’t speak. You wanted to repeat yourself. You wanted to convince him that this was what was best for both of you since getting caught would surely end his career. No matter how much you willed yourself to speak though, not a fucking word came out. The only sound you made was a pathetic whimper, a dumb little sound that you knew he liked; he always moaned whenever you made it. 
“That’s what I thought, hermosa,” he whispered, “you can come back to my office tonight, and I’ll take good care of you like I always do, hm?”
He let go of you and stepped back, eyes scanning over your body and taking it all in as he had so many times before.
“Well, I-I can’t come tonight,” you admitted hastily, as though you might choke on the words if you didn’t spit them out.
“Why?” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes snapped to yours.
“Well my friends and I were going out tonight and–”
“No,” he said firmly, “you’re coming back here.”
Perhaps he’d said it too harshly, but knowing that there was a good possibility that this was the night of your death, your ‘canon event’ as he’d taken to calling it, he couldn’t risk you leaving his sight.
You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark glare in his eye told you that arguing was futile. It was clear that whatever this had started as, an exploitative endeavor, had turned into some sort of obsession that you weren’t going to be able to get out of easily.
“Please,” you mouthed, keeping your eyes on the floor.
He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so much guilt. Could he really keep this up? Would he really be able to spend the rest of both your lives looking into your fearful eyes and convince himself that it was alright? As long as he had you it didn’t matter if you were a little afraid…right?
“I know this is hard for you to understand, so I’ll make it simple for you,” he moved to grab you, but you slipped under his arm and started backing away.
“Stop doing this, please,” you were trying to get away from him now, another sign that this was probably a dead-end universe for him.
Miguel couldn’t imagine much worse than you being dead, but you feeling so afraid of him that you died trying to get away from him was right up there. He wondered if closing his oversized office window would’ve still resulted in your demise that night.
“Honey, I’m sorry, if you can just come here and have a seat we can talk–”
“No!” You yelled, continuing to back up, the open window at your back.
Miguel took a step forward.
“I’m not going to hurt you, let’s just–”
“You already did!” Your lips were trembling, your whole body was tense, “Stay away from me!”
“Mi vida, please!”
He watched you hit the low-sitting window sill. The school would get sued, no doubt, for not putting a screen, or at least some form of safety precaution, in place to prevent your fall from three stories up. He looked over the window sill, watching the blood spread from your body outward, covering the pavement below.
Miguel genuinely felt bad. He didn’t know if it was because he felt like he was losing you again. No, this wasn’t really like losing you. This felt more like guilt around causing the death of some college student who happened to look almost exactly like you, but she wasn’t really you.
In all honesty, appearance was the only thing this girl had in common with you. So Miguel wouldn’t shed a tear for her, though he would hold on to the turmoil he’d caused you in that universe for a while. He’d wear it with him to the next one, like a pin he’d collected as a souvenir. That thought actually made him laugh. It was the laugh of a man gone mad, but a laugh nonetheless.
Maybe by the end of his journey he’d have a whole stash of pins. Perhaps he’d be so weighed down by them that he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. It was entirely possible that a suitable replacement didn’t exist, and that maybe he’d never find the perfect one.
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little-diable · 2 months
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Asshole - College!Aaron Hotchner (smut)
A small drabble inspired by @writethelifeyouwant – thank you for this, Mads! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: pwp, Aaron Hotchner is an asshole, a fuckboy she tried to avoid, and yet clearly fails to do so
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, choking
Pairing: College!Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (1.3k words)
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The bar was crowded, a thick cloud of smoke hung in the air, making it harder for her to find her way to her friends. (Y/n) had to keep her groan bottled in, not wanting to push herself past people she barely knew, strange faces, and those she had once seen but rather not come across again. 
Why had she agreed to go and meet them here? Why had she left the safety of her apartment when she had an exam tomorrow morning?
“Careful, sweetheart.” Hands shot out to grasp her arms, holding onto (y/n) before she could tumble to the ground. With her thoughts guiding her, she hadn’t noticed the tall frame moving towards her, colliding with her before she could rip herself out of her thoughts. Her hazy eyes focused on the man towering over her, just the sight of his face left her groaning in annoyance.
“Let go of me, Hotchner.” It was too loud for her to pick up on the low chuckle rumbling through him, forced to watch the tall guy step away from her with his hands raised and his lips pulled into a smirk. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole, she would have given into his flirting months ago. But yet whenever she tried to give him a chance, he went ahead and ripped her hope to shreds, making out with others right in front of her, and flirting with those she couldn’t stand.
It was a tiring back and forth. 
Without sparing him another glance, (y/n) pushed herself past him, sighing in relief as her eyes found the ones of Amy, her closest friend. A small smile made its way onto her lips as she plopped down on the chair next to Amy, greeting their friends with a small wave of her trembling hand. 
“You okay?” Concern dripped from Amy’s voice, eyes wandering over (y/n)’s frame as if she was looking for wounds, hoping that she hadn’t been hurt physically. (Y/n) let go of a sigh as she reached for Amy’s drink, taking a sip of the strong beverage before a reply could leave her.
“I ran into that Hotchner asshole, I don’t know how much longer I can hold off with forcing my fist into that annoyingly handsome face.” It took (y/n) a moment to focus on Amy’s wide eyes, leaving her to wonder what had managed to catch her friend’s attention. 
“So, you do think I’m handsome after all, huh?” Slowly she turned towards Aaron Hotchner, who was standing behind her with two beers in his hand. She watched him place one down for her before he sat down next to her, arm finding its way around her shoulder. “But we’ll have to talk about that kink of yours one day, do you get off to the thought of hitting me?”
……
“Fuck,” she was heavily panting, eyes pressed close, fingers buried in his raven hair. He had her pressed against the door of her apartment, lips kissing their way down her throat. She couldn’t even remember how they had ended up right here, after one too many beers and one too many cigarettes they had shared.
It had been the first time in months that he had actually been focused on her, flirting with (y/n) until the heat thumping through her veins had managed to burn her wholly. Without a doubt she’d regret doing this when the sun rose above the horizon, and yet she couldn’t care about the future, all she could care about was the feeling of his hardening cock rubbing against her still-clothed cunt.
“I knew I’d eventually turn you into a moaning mess for me.” Aaron rasped the words against her throat, hands tightening their grip on her thighs. He felt her legs shake, wrapped around his waist to keep herself close, silently praying that he wouldn’t let go. 
“Shut up!” Her voice trembled, coaxing a loud laugh out of him as he started walking towards her bedroom. It wasn’t the first time he found himself in her apartment, but it certainly was the first time she allowed him to touch her, to push her closer to the edge with a simple kiss. “I don’t want any foreplay, I just need you to fuck me.”
“A woman who knows what she wants, how sweet.” She wanted to call him a condescending asshole, but her words got stuck in her throat as Aaron roughly pushed her down on the mattress. It didn’t take him long to free her from her dress, groaning at the sight of her underwear-clad body, a sight for sore eyes he’d think of in the upcoming weeks. 
“Do you have a condom?” His murmured words ripped (y/n) out of her trance, watching him undress with skilled movements. His dark leather jacket was long forgotten, just like that white shirt of his that managed to hide the muscular body she always had wanted to touch. Wordlessly she turned towards her bedside table to reach for a condom, only to turn back to his naked frame. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it fit.”
“Such an arrogant dick,” (y/n) choked on her words, trying to sound somewhat confident. Her eyes struggled to leave his hard cock, watching it twitch in anticipation as Aaron ripped the condom open. She tried to focus on herself and shrugged out of her underwear only to flop back down on the mattress. 
“I’ll fuck you now, but I won’t leave without getting a taste of you later, that much I can promise.” His words left her moaning, momentarily distracting her from the feeling of his cock nudging against her entrance. Their eyes held contact as he slowly pushed into her, managing to push deep into her tightness due to her arousal seeping out of her, desperate for him. “Jesus fuck, you feel so good.”
“Oh, god, Aaron. Move!” He didn’t need to be told twice, pulling out of her only to push back in with more force. Within seconds the two had managed to build a fast rhythm, set on their own greedy needs, desperate to feel that addicting high. Aaron’s ringed fingers found her throat to keep (y/n) pinned down on the mattress, fucking her with an urgency she wasn’t used to. 
The sound of their bodies meeting echoed through her small bedroom, followed by the sound of her moans and his deep groans. Aaron fucked her as if it was his last day on earth, as if he had to prove a point. And (y/n) happily took it all, every touch, every possessive groan that made her tremble beneath him.
“Touch yourself, baby, make yourself cum on my cock.” With trembling fingers she found her pulsing bundle, circling her clit to try and push herself into the open arms of her orgasm. Aaron watched her with dilated pupils, pleasure-drunken and high on the feeling of her walls fluttering around his cock. He’d struggle with letting her go, Aaron wasn’t one for sticking around, but perhaps he could make an expectation - just this once.
“I’m close, harder, please.” A hum left Aaron at her begging, smirking down at (y/n) as he fucked her even harder. He tightened his grip on her throat as she came, watching her with amazement swimming in his pupils. Aaron fucked her through her high and gave it a few more thrusts before he came himself. 
“That was something.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, carefully he pulled away, threw the condom away and found his way back to her bed. He found his place next to her, heavily breathing just like she was. 
“If there’s one thing to know about me,” with mischief swimming in his pupils he settled between her quivering thighs. “It’s knowing that I always keep my word, and I need to taste you now, baby.”
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atlafan · 8 months
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This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.
Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.
Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.
You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.
When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.
“Miss-“
“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”
“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”
“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”
“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”
“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”
“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”
“She was sick!”
“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”
“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”
“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”
“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”
“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”
“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”
“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”
“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.
“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”
“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”
“Are you done?”
“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”
“Yes. You were very clear.”
“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”
“No.”
“You’re a fucking prick.”
“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.
“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”
“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.
Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?
“Are you serious?”
“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”
“I…”
“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”
“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”
“Do you still?”
“No.”
“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”
“Pick me up at seven.”
“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”
“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.
While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.
“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.
“Like a charm.”
“She said yes?!”
“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”
“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
621 notes · View notes
spncvr · 28 days
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could you write something with spencer and childhood bestfriedn to lovers?? haven't seen you write angst! but ik it'll be good 🤣❤️
glorious | s. reid
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summary: leaving spencer isn't easy
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: angst? and, again, english isnt my first languageLMAO its also too late to be writing so i hope this makes sense
a/n: IVE BEEN WAAAIIITTTINGGG FOR ANGST REQS this is so bad thp girl (gender neutral) im sorry i didn't do u justice
masterlist
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YOU LOVE THE darkness.
There, you feel as though you hold the entire world in your grasp. The light, however, falters under your grasp, almost as if it’s causing itself pain by being in between your fingers. You can’t help but think that it’s almost like yourself, loud and bold (maybe, you think humorously, that’s why you’re not particularly fond of it). The light is chaotic, boisterous, and overwhelming, and it burns out your mind and soul. 
The dark is a contrast to the light in every way. It is solitary, silent, and careful in its movements against your skin. You feel a sense of power amidst it, as though you can control it with the mere flick of your wrist. The darkness brings a sense of contentment to you, as if you belong there, among its shadows and stillness. You revel in the power and peace that the darkness brings you, and for a moment, everything feels just right.
The wind dances around you, a melodic tune that you can never quite decipher. It hums on your cheek and creates an illusion of harmony in the bustling city that you know isn’t really there. It is akin to light, even in the darkness. Everyone is constantly bumping into someone, everyone’s always got somewhere to be. Because the city lives and breathes in constant distress; so much so that nobody seems to notice how the sky shifts from a light blue to a tranquil orange and then to darkness, even if the city never truly gets dark. There are always lights, stars, and the sounds of nightlife and parties that can last until dawn. Despite your disdain for the city and the way it makes you feel, you can’t help but smile as you study it from afar. Perhaps it’s the allure of the city’s chaos that keeps you here, or maybe it’s the thought of what you could make of yourself in the midst of it all—but that didn’t matter, not anymore.
You’ve always promised yourself when you were younger that you’d leave.
One day, you had whispered to yourself in the darkness, when you were six, your favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between your arms, one day, we’ll go away. You can’t remember whatever caused you to tell yourself this at such a young age. You think it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because your parents had refused to let you get ice cream after you’d finished all of your green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in your mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.
One day, you say again, when you’re thirteen because your teacher had failed you in your first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. We’ll go. We’ll leave. You say it so firmly and so surely that it scares you sometimes. Because, really, you’ve never been anywhere but here—so you ask yourself: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?
One day, you say again, when you’re seventeen because you have been looking at universities far off and away from your city far away from the constant distress it emits. You’d stare at the campus pictures on the website and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, you’d picture yourself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—you’d be the smart, and the witty one. You’d laugh a little harder, and smile a little brighter. One day, We’ll be there. Anytime soon.
“What are you smiling about?” his voice pulls you out of your small reverie. He looks good in the darkness. Specifically this kind of darkness, one that isn’t just quite completely dark. You find that kind of darkness here, where you could see the entire city live and breathe, where you could see some underlying beauty within the city.
You offer a meek shrug, eyes never leaving the city, “It just— feels so real now, no?”
He rests his chin on one of his bent knees, sighing. “It’s always been real. You’ve wanted to leave this city forever.”
“Well,”  you exhale, “I didn’t expect to leave so soon. I always thought maybe I’d stay in this city a little longer. I don’t know.”
“With me?”
You frown at him slightly at the question. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“For me?”
The question is cruel. You don’t need him to make you question yourself because you have spent your entire life yearning for nothing more than to go and leave. You hate him for it, kind of. Because really, what did he expect you to do? Stop everything, and stay with him; for him? I’ve got dreams too, damn it, you want to yell at him, scream at him, I’ve spent my entire life hating nothing more than the god-damn fucking city, and you’re here to mess all of it up. “For me?” Yes. Yes FOR you. Everything’s FOR you! 
You can’t dispute the truth, though. Yes, you’d stay with him. For him. Whatever.
Yet as you sit with him by your side and gaze out over the city, you suddenly realise —almost as if you had never thought about it before—that leaving this city meant leaving him as well. The very notion of leaving him felt so alien to your mind. Somehow, you had subconsciously imagined that you’d be going away with him —it’s always been one day we’ll leave, we’ll go— besides, you’ve always known Spencer. In a way, he was like… God, you can’t even say it. You just needed to leave. You can’t look at him when you answer a soft: “Yes. Yes, for you.”
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i have like a pt. 2 of this but i hate it so heres a cliff hanger LMAOAIOSVUSBD
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abbyromanoff · 8 months
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Can I request an omegaverse where R is a beta but when she meets Alpha! Agatha, R’s body changes and become in omega! R?
Please 🥺
SAY YES TO HEAVEN
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PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader
WORD COUNT: 1,832
WARNINGS: ABO universe, smut, car sex, handjobs, breeding, multiple orgasms, creampies, marking, possessiveness, praise, degrading, think that’s all :))
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Agatha never intended to fall in love with someone like you, someone who wasn’t part of her kind. You were a beta, failing to fit in with the majority of society and often finding yourself as an outcast to most, but that only seemed to make your girlfriend fall harder.
You tried to understand what her role as an Alpha meant and the fact that she was destined to be with an Omega, something you weren’t but now wish you could be. She wasn’t like any of the Alpha’s you came across, she cared about more than sex and saw you as a human being, not just a piece of meat to use and throw away once she was done.
But eventually, over the course of nine months, you noticed changes in your body. It started out small when you noticed a growing heat in your lower region, but you assumed it was natural. Then when she was stroking your face, her fingers pumping deep inside of you, an almost purr-like noise left your gaping mouth. You could tell the effect it had on her as well, she had been waiting to hear her partner release such sounds of pleasure.
Then came the need, it was more than ever before, even looking in the woman’s eyes caused a throb to erupt on your clit. What was happening? You didn’t know, which meant you did the only logical thing and visited your doctor.
Agatha offered to take you to the appointment after you informed her of your emotions and physicalities as of late. She had been sensing it too, your smell felt like it was pulling her in, and the urge to claim you as hers only grew.
“It’s going to be alright, my love. If anything happens I’ll be right there with you.” Her words and sweet smile seemed to ease the shaking of your leg before a knocking was placed on the door. The older woman stepped through with what seemed to be an irritated look, she must’ve had a long day, you thought.
“So, tell me, Y/N, what seems to be the problem today?” Came her voice after a few minutes of small talk. A blood-pressure pump was wrapped around your arm and had been squeezing tighter and tighter, cutting off your circulation before you slowly gained it back after release.
“Well, uhm,” Agatha gave you a reassuring look. “I’ve been noticing- the both of us have, actually that there seems to be a change in my body lately and I don’t really know what to do or what it could mean.” You explained, receiving a hum from the doctor as she continued to type on her laptop.
“Mm, and your wife here- is she also a beta?” You blushed at the title she gave your girlfriend and noticed she shared the same reaction.
“Uh, my girlfriend is not a beta, no. She’s actually an alpha.” Her eyebrows rose before shaking it off, but you were used to the reaction, it wasn’t considered normal to see a pair like you together.
“Alright, I think it’s best if I perform a thorough exam, just to be safe. Why don’t you take off your clothes and I’ll be right back.”
The rest of the exam went considerably well, but it almost pained your partner seeing the professional place their hands on your body, on her body. You were hers, it felt almost predatory how much possessiveness could be caused by such a small act.
But when the painfully long wait finally came to an end, you were greeted with the news you had been starting to expect, your body was developing to match your mate’s, you were forming the traits of an omega.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s actually much more common than you think.” The doctor tried to persuade you, but your mind was still swirling a mile a minute. When earning nothing but silence from your end, Agatha spoke for you.
“Uh, thank you, Miss, we appreciate your help.” She left with a nod and the two of you soon left after her, Agatha secretly smiling to herself as she opened the car door for you.
“You know, it’s really not that bad if you think about it.” There were barely any cars in the parking lot besides yours, most likely because they were nearing closing hours.
“Are you really that upset about this?” She didn’t understand why you kept your head in your hands while leaning forward, did you not want to be her omega?
“I’m not upset, I’m just-” You couldn’t finish as a small whine left you, not quite quiet enough to slip by her listening ears.
“Then tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, baby.” She tried to bring herself closer to you in hopes of getting a hold of you, only to feel your lips being placed on hers in a hurry. You used both hands to grasp harshly at her cheeks, already starting to climb over the dashboard as you found comfort on her lap.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been needing you so bad this week. I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have your marking, to finally be your omega.” You kissed hastily down her neck and near her jawline, letting yourself leave purple hints that some may suspect were bruises, luckily, purple was her favorite color.
“And then she told me what I’ve been waiting to hear, and I knew I just needed to have you as soon as possible.” Your arms wrapped around her shoulders as your hips started a grinding motion, all previous nerves disappearing as you got lost in a trance of overwhelming pleasure.
“There- someone could see us…” She mumbled, not being able to stop the moans that flew out of her. You were coming in perfect contact with her length, she was becoming just as desperate as you.
“I don’t fucking care, let them see. I thought you wanted people to know I’m yours, has that changed?” Your head was thrown back as her hands came in contact with your waist, causing the pace you started to quicken to her liking.
“Don’t fucking tease me, Y/N.” The way your name spilled out of her mouth in a haunting whisper sent shivers down your spine and caused goosebumps to erupt over your entire being. Your chuckle drove her mad as she pressed her mouth against your exposed neck, leaving stains of her lipstick across the layers of your skin.
“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out, hm?” Your nimble fingers trailed down to her pants that were harboring a small wet patch. You reached for her belt and untangled it loosely, tossing it in the back before unzipping her khakis. She decided to help you and lifted her hips before lowering her bottoms, her erect cock coming to show and you nearly drooled at the sight.
“I need you inside me so fucking bad, you have no idea.” You stroked her rapidly, feeling her pre-cum drench your hand.
“That’s it, just like that.” She whimpered soundlessly, almost inaudible.
“Oh, yes! Y- you’re doing such a good job, such a good fucking girl.” You smirked teasingly before leaving a lingering kiss on her lips, letting her chase back in hopes of feeling you once again.
“Aren’t I giving you enough? Or is this not enough for your greedy little cock?” You fauxed a pout of sympathy, laughing to yourself when she thrusted into your enclosed hand.
“Awh, it’s so cute seeing you like this, so needy and distressed. I think I know how to fix that.” You brought her fingers against your inner thigh, slowly dragging it closer and closer to your heat. Feeling you through your tight jeans wasn’t enough, she felt as though she would die if she couldn’t feel you.
“Get in the back,” She stated firmly. “Now!” You nodded, a sudden act of submission that brought you by surprise. She followed soon after, smiling as you started discarding yourself of your clothing.
“You’re so perfect, and all fucking mine.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple, the bud hardening the harsher she sucked.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” It wasn’t a request as it was a statement. Her mouth fell upon your neglected breast as she lined herself up with your entrance, there was no need for foreplay as you were already dripping, it nearly brought shame seeing just how wet you were.
“Please, please- ah! Oh, God!” Her face contorted into pleasure as your warmth surrounded her, she felt like she was going to collapse at any given moment.
“Shh, the only one who gets to hear your moans is me, you got that?” You nodded, unable to form words as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Her head stuck in your neck as she cried, sensing her orgasm approaching. The previous acts only edged her further, but now with your walls clamping around her, she knew there was no hope in stopping herself.
“So fucking tight! Oh, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum inside you. Can I cum, baby?” You could hear the pure want and desire looming in her breath and knew you couldn’t deny her.
“Yeah, just- please cum inside me, I want your pups, Aggie.” Your breasts were pressed together and your legs wrapped around her ass, pressing her closer into you in hopes she’d be able to thrust even deeper.
“C’mon, Alpha, give me your pups.” Her release emptied deep inside of you, causing you to groan in satisfaction. She painted your walls white and you enjoyed every second of it, and so did she.
“You feel so good, I need more.” She didn’t halt her movements, no matter the overwhelming shock that coursed through her veins.
“You’re gonna cum with me, okay? Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yeah.” She pulled herself up and grasped onto your hips, pulling you in even further as your legs clenched even tighter around her.
“You see that? That’s how deep I am inside of your needy little cunt.” She pressed against the bulge appearing on your stomach with a wicked grin, pulling you by the back of your neck so your vision lined up with her. You moaned at the sight, reaching out to interlace her hand with yours on the newfound interest.
“Shit, you’re so deep.” There was no warning when her cum shot deep inside of you, some oozing out and dripping down to your butt. You took it as permission to let go, soaking in the orgasmic state you shared.
“This is all I’ve ever wanted, my love, you’re gonna look so precious carrying my babies.” You connected your lips in a hungry kiss, refusing to pull away until you both were gasping for air.
“I- I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop, you don’t know how badly I want to mark you right now.”
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queenpiranhadon · 1 month
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⚡︎⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 ⎸⎸‎⚡︎
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A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting ((again) again) , I wrote this for all of you :D Thank you to my first not irl moot, Bee (@swans-chirping-in-the-distance) for beta reading this ily girl 😭 Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune
Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of anxiety, night thoughts (iykyk), reader wants to strangle Sirius lmao, maybe some inaccuracies idk man, reader is a Ravenclaw, reader is in the year below Sirius, reader is a bookworm, reader gets stressed apt academics - don't even try to call people like that nerds, anxiety for this sorta stuff is really serious, reader snaps at Sirius, reader’s nicknames are sweetheart, love and angel, slowburn kinda- they're just figuring stuff out, reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind.
Pairing: Sirius Black x GN!Ravenclaw!Reader
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The halls were quiet. 
 Too quiet.  
And you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from traversing the halls of Hogwarts, relishing in the darkness that enveloped the halls, and ultimately concealing you from any prying eyes.  
Stars twinkled through the windows that cast soft rays on moonlight onto the empty halls of Hogwarts, you should’ve felt at ease. 
But you didn’t. 
Technically, you shouldn’t be awake right now, and technically, you shouldn’t be in the halls right now, either, given the strict curfew Hogwarts has on its students. 
Didn’t stop you from leaving though. 
You had just finished a big essay for Herbology, and your anxiety had gotten the best of you, creating the twisting feeling in your gut, the one of failure, your subconscious whispering false notions and spiraling into possible timelines of being forced to work as Filch’s assistant because you failed to pass your exams, and- 
Needless to say, you needed to clear your head.  
Which is why you snuck out of Ravenclaw Tower, and why you were walking through the halls of Hogwarts. 
And why you now found yourself hiding behind one of the almost intimidating, looming pillars in the hall, footsteps resounding through the hallways.  
Your heart pounds - you would for sure be screwed if you were caught. Your mind races, thinking of countless possible ways your life would be ruined if whoever was there found you.  
Your body feels like it’s on fire, buzzing with the urge to run and hide, back into the safety of your sheets; better to give yourself to the torment of your thoughts than be caught in a place you weren’t supposed to.  
You curse mentally to yourself, until a husky masculine voice snaps you out of your mental tirade of self-abuse. 
“You can come out, sweetheart; I won’t bite. I’m supposed to be here as much as you are.” the male says smoothly. He had voice of a man who thrived off his confidence.  
Your body physically slumps in relief at the knowledge that it isn’t a professor. And then the tension came back, once you realized who the voice belonged to.  
Sirius Black.  
The boy in question was in the year above you, but it didn’t stop him from continuing his onslaught of pestering you when he could. And you tolerated it- knowing this was just how the Marauders were sometimes- but then Sirius did the unimaginable.  
You were reading your book- one of mystery and romance, each inked word drawing you in more and more until the book was physically ripped from your hands, your progress lost in the process. To say you were furious was an understatement.  
You probably yelled at him for 20 minutes straight, going on a tangent about how you never do that to someone and that he was an unsufferable prick, and yet all that son of a Blast-Ended Screwt did was stare at you with those stupidly gorgeous eyes and an even stupider grin plastered on his face.  
And after that day, he had made a point to poke fun at you whenever he could.  
Maybe running into a professor in the middle of the night wouldn’t be so bad.  
“I know you’re there, love.” he says; you can practically hear the smug grin on his face.  
“Shove off Black, you’re not supposed to be out either.” you bite, speaking in hushed tones unlike the loud boy on the other side of the pillar you were hiding behind.  
“That may be true, but I’ve never been good at following rules, have I?” he teases, trying to rile you up. “But I seem to have caught the Ravenclaw’s self-righteous angel doing some misdemeanors of their own.” 
You want to wring his neck- stupid Black doesn’t know anything- doesn't know how much your anxiety bothered you at night, and the moment you try to get some reprieve, you have to deal with him.  
“Can you actually shut your mouth?! You don’t know anything about me, and you never will, so stop acting like you can read me so easily, because maybe, just maybe, people have lives outside of you and your thick head Black.” You snap, storming off from your hiding place where Sirius can see you, determined to leave for Ravenclaw Tower. 
But before you can, he grabs your wrist, tugging you backward and into his chest- strong arms wrapping around you and securing your frame, effectively trapping you in his embrace.  
“There you are.” he whispers. 
You feel your face heat up, the proximity of the two of you was unbearable, his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck. You tense up, and yet, some part of you melts into his touch- and you hate it.  
“What in the world are you talking about, Black.” your tone harsh but no bite.  
You feel his head tilt up. The arms encircling you tighten as his tone turns thoughtful. 
“Do you hate me?” 
That caught you off guard. “What?” you stutter, taken aback. 
“Do you hate me, angel.” he repeats calmly, still looking through what you think in the window on the opposite wall from the both of you.  
You look down in contrast, mulling over his words. Do you hate...Sirius Black? Sure, he annoyed you to the end of the world, made your blood boil to the point where he could cook pasta with it, and made you want to rip the strands of your hair out, but somehow, hating him didn’t seem right. It didn’t sound right, the words hate and Sirius Black.  
“No.” you whisper, deciding to look up at the window with him. “I can’t.” 
You know he’s smiling when he softly says, “Me neither.”  
You both don’t say anything after that, silence ringing out through the halls of Hogwarts, and after a few minutes of just standing there in each other's presence, you speak.  
“So where does that leave us?” 
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evvlevie · 5 months
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Yes, I promise you will shift and/or manifest that thing you want.
Hi besties, it's your girl Evie again, after what seems like ages of me being away for stuff like not failing my uni-exams (!!!)
For my first post after my big pause, I chose to share a little bit of knowledge with you guys, that helped me get through my manifestation-journey / shifting-journey
"If you really want something, it is guaranteed to be yours"
Really simple, but REALLY important.
this is valid for big stuff like SP-manifestations and shifting just like for small stuff e. g. manifesting good weather.
the universe loves you. It loves you so much, that as soon as it registered your desire, all efforts are being made in order to get it to you the fasted way possible.
Yes, that "fastest way possible" can mean time frames that go up to years sometimes.
I have read about success stories of people who "waited" (yes I know that waiting is the wrong terminology here, please don't come for me) for multiple years until the bridge of incidences has played out in the way that it had to, so that the desire could arrive in the way it needed to.
You need to stop treating manifestation as this quick fix for everything ever, because yes desires can manifest within minutes but sometimes they just simply don't.
You need to remember that you wanting something, just means future you has it, and is directing you towards the thing that is "your destiny" through your desires.
This also means one thing: The universe has shown you what shifting is. You desire to shift to a certain place. That means you have already shifted there and you are now experiencing the path that got you there. And when you look at that, wouldn't you agree that it isn't really important on how much pressure you put on it, because since you want it, you are PROMISED to get it anyway? And since you are reading this post, you were supposed to hear me say this, so maybe just believe me for a moment.
Seriously that's how I view my life at this point. Any of my desires are just indicators to me of what I have in the future.
And since I know that, it's way easier to not give power to unlikeable 3D-circumstances, because I already have the spoiler that I get the thing I desire. I wouldn't desire it, if I wasn't getting it anyway. Those unpleasant 3D-Situations are just means to an end, they are just the bridge of incidences that gets me from point desiring to point having it in the physical realm. (Very small reminder here: If an unpleasant situation arises you can react to it, and it won't meddle with your manifestations badly, because as I mentioned, they are promised to you. Many people think that ignoring the 3D means detaching from your very human emotions, which really isn't the point of experiencing the human experience. The point of the human experience are the many emotions attached to it. Ignoring the 3D means, at least to me, that even if it seems very unlikely for the desires to harden into fact and that even it the utter opposite of your desire has shown up, you need to remind yourself that your desire is still promised and guaranteed and that you are receiving it, although unpleasantries appear.)
What I am trying to say here:
If you haven't shifted, yet: don't pressure yourself, don't stress yourself and don't think you are doing something wrong just because you have been trying to shift for a certain amount of time, and still have not.
⇢ because since you want it, you have already done it. You just have to live through the experience of how you got there. And this experience has its length, whether you like it or not. This length is different for each and every person out there. There is no reason to get demotivated. Because why would you if it is already set in stone, that you will have shifted once you lived through the experience of finding out how to shift? You shouldn't go to bed thinking "I hope I shift tonight" and you shouldn't be waking up thinking "Damn it, I can't shift since I didn't last night".
I go to bed excited because I KNOW for certain that I will experience my shift and that every night could be the night and I wake up in my CR thinking "Oh well, looks like the time hasn't come yet, but I know it will."
If you want something, it is already on its fastest way possible to get to you. No "if" , "and" or "but".
Yours in every reality,
Evie <3
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